Turning Point
by Slayergirl
Summary: Sookie reaches a turning point in her understanding of how she wants to live her life. But will it have come too late? Set post DEA. E/S.
1. Good Night Sweet Girl

Flitting in and out of consciousness, I wasn't sure if the voices I heard were real or not.

"We've given her blood, but the damage is… is…" there was a choking sob, something I knew, deep down, I didn't associate with this voice. "I believe we were too late."

"Do not blame yourself. You have done all you can. Hush, now; she is awake. She can hear us. Sookie?"

Sookie. Yes, Sookie was my name, I remembered that much. And I remembered the voice of the second speaker, too. I prised my eyes open by sheer force of will, and looked at him. "Eric." My voice sounded dry, whispery, and nothing like it should. I looked at the woman trying to control her bloody tears in the corner of the room. "Pam." A third person, standing silently by the opposite side of the bed to Eric, surprised me. "Karin."

"We are all here, my little trouble magnet," said Eric soothingly.

My hand found his, and held it tightly. "Don't… want… to go," I gasped, my larynx and lungs complaining at the effort they were being put to. Behind him, Pam gave a tiny wail, and fled from the room. "What's… wrong… with Pam?"

"Her blood could not heal you," said Eric, and I saw that bloody tears were gathering in his own eyes. "Nor Karin's. They hoped mine would, as I'm so much older."

"Can it?"

"You are at least conscious," he said, with a faint smile. It didn't touch his eyes. "I fear there is little left I can do for you."

I whimpered. Now it came to the point, I didn't want to die. I really didn't. Michelle was expecting, and I was looking forward to being an aunt. Hunter still needed my help. With Sam gone, lost to cancer a couple of years back, I had a bar to run on my own. I wasn't ready to go. "Not… ready… for this," I gasped, clinging to his hand.

A bead of blood coursed down his cheek, streaking his pale skin. "Nor am I," he admitted.

"What… will… you do?"

He sat silently, his head bowed, and didn't answer.

Karin answered for him, very softly. "He will meet the sun once you have gone."

"No!" I clutched at his hand, trying to make him understand. "You mustn't! You… must go on!"

He looked me in the eye, finally. "No," he said simply. "Not without you."

"Freyda…"

"I don't give a fuck about Freyda," he growled. "If it hadn't been for her, I would have been here sooner, I could have…" he shook his head. "No matter now," he said quietly. "Karin is right. I will meet the sun. I have lived too long already."

"Can't… let you… do that."

"Lover, you are not in much of a position to argue with me," he said gently.

I stared at him for a long time. I could feel myself slipping away, and I knew there wasn't much time left for me. I made my decision, and felt strangely at peace with it. Perhaps it had been inevitable all along. "Then… turn me… so… I can… argue with you… some more."

Beside me, Karin sucked in an unneeded breath. Eric went very still. "Do you truly wish for that?" he asked me. "I promised you I would never turn you against your will, and I hold to that. But if it is what you wish…?"

"It is."

"You are sure?"

"Yes."

He hesitated. "Karin, call Pam back in." She nodded, and left the room. "I will not be able to stay until you rise; Freyda has spies watching me, and you will be vulnerable. I will come for you as soon as I am able, I promise you, and teach you all I can," he said urgently. "Do you understand? I do not wish to leave you, ever, but I must do this for your safety."

"Understand."

Pam returned on her own. "S-she has agreed to be turned?" she asked hopefully. It was as unlike her as I'd ever heard her.

"She has, but I won't be able to stay with her; it is too dangerous. I leave her in your care until I can come for her." He turned his eyes back to me. "In my absence, Pam will look after you, my lover. She will do for you all that a maker would do, once you rise. I will be with you as soon after that as I may." I nodded. "Are you ready?"

"Ready."

He kissed me briefly on the forehead, on my lips, then gathered me tenderly into his arms, and kissed my neck. I barely felt his fangs as they slid into me, but sighed, and wound my fingers into his hair. I felt warm, drowsy, and relaxed. Then his wrist was at my mouth, his blood flowing into it, and I swallowed mouthful after mouthful.

The last thing I remember was Pam stroking my hair and humming a lullaby, and Eric whispering, "Rest now, my lover," as he cradled me in his arms. I guess it wasn't such a bad way to go.


	2. Sweet Child O' Mine

**A/N: You spoke, I listened (okay, I admit it - I'd actually already written it). I'd intended to write it as a companion piece, though, rather than as a second chapter; and the follow-up - if I get around to writing it - may be another story in the same universe, I don't know - the plot-bunny has left treats for other fics I'm working on and haven't yet started, but not for this one (yet). However, I wanted to write Eric's PoV on turning Sookie, because, well, he's damnably fun to write.**

**The title for the previous chapter - to mirror this one, which would have been the title to the story if I'd left them as stand-alones - is 'Good Night Sweet Girl', and is the title of a song by Ghost of the Robot, whose lyrics... well, go and read them, and you'll get the point. Gah... *sniffles***

**Eric's listening to Guns N' Roses, 'Sweet Child O' Mine' - of course.**

* * *

I travelled back to Oklahoma almost in a daze. What I had thought might be the hardest thing in the world to come to terms with had been turned aside; my once-lover, once-wife, my Sookie, would rise in a couple of days' time as my child, mine for always. I only wished I could stay with her, be there for her when she did so, but Pam – now her sister, and overjoyed to be so – would stay with her, and guard her. Pam would teach her, guide her, protect her, as she adapted to her new life, and though it pained me not to be the one to be there for her and with her, I knew she was in the safest possible hands. However great my grief that I could not be there for her while she was most vulnerable, I knew it was better than losing her altogether, and that, in time, when it was safe, we would be reunited.

I was surprised she had not only allowed it, but asked for it. For so long, I had believed that she didn't love me, using the cluviel dor to save the Shifter, and eventually marrying him – though it amused me that she never legally changed her name, remaining stubbornly Sookie Stackhouse to the end. Now? I wasn't sure. Had I been able to promise her to live out the rest of my years with her irrevocably gone, would she still have asked me to turn her? I knew my Sookie, and I didn't think it likely. She had always been firm about that – she had not wanted to become a vampire no matter what. But she had asked only when Karin told her my plan to meet the sun.

I couldn't help but smile a little at that; how typical of my beautiful, compassionate lover to do that, not for her own sake, but for mine. So often she ran headlong into danger in an attempt to help another, with little regard for her own safety – no doubt what had caused this last, fatal accident. Or, in this instance, thanks to Pam's frantic phone-call (I recalled her terse 'Get your ass back here NOW, Eric, Sookie's dying!' with a shudder), not so fatal. What if she hadn't been able to call me? What if I hadn't been able to wheedle permission to visit Sookie one last time from Freyda (and I vowed I would get my revenge on the smug bitch for her look of triumph)? What if I had been too late, and she had already gone by the time I arrived? What if, what if…

But it hadn't been. She had made her own choice, and my heart swelled with pride and gratitude that she had chosen me to be her maker. I wondered, with a tiny grin, whether the maker's command would work on her any better than glamouring or blood ties had. Though it would definitely be a help in keeping her out of trouble, I found myself rather hoping it wouldn't work on her. It made life far more interesting that way.

Life always was a lot more fun with Sookie around, I remembered with a chuckle, thinking back over some of our escapades (the orgy was quite a favourite, and the aftermath of her staking, once she was healed; and, of course, the time I spent staying with her as an amnesiac – excellent memories, all of them, in their different ways). Things had been quiet and dull until she'd rocked up at Fangtasia with Boring Bill, and started off a whole chain reaction – trouble after trouble after trouble. I recalled her once accusing me of being at the root of it all, but really? No, trouble just seemed to find her, no matter where she went, with me hauling her out of it time and again.

To be fair, it wasn't always Sookie's fault, either. Perhaps it was simply the two of us. Who knows? We were a dynamic pair at the best and worst of times. Arguing, fighting, fucking… yes, she was made for me in every way, whether she realised it or not. I knew it the moment I saw her, that first time at Fangtasia, in her white dress with its red flowers, as innocent as a vestal virgin, a lamb to the slaughter. I knew I would fight for her, die for her, live for her, anything to make her my own.

And now she was mine, my child, mine for all eternity (barring her propensity for trouble). I grinned to myself, in the best humour I'd been since my marriage to that accursed cow, and sang along to the radio at the top of my voice, flooring the gas pedal on the corvette.

"Oh, sweet child of mine, oh sweet love of mine…"


End file.
